


Can You Feel Me In The Air

by trashcangimmick



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Exhibitionism, F/F, Female Billy Hargrove, Female Steve Harrington, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Period-Typical Homophobia, Power Dynamics, Public Sex, Queer Themes, Sex Toys, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/pseuds/trashcangimmick
Summary: Billie Hargrove is Trouble. Exactly the kind of trouble that Steph Harrington finds irresistible.





	1. Do You Wanna Touch Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Billy - toxic masculinity - internalized homophobia + awesome lipstick + fantastic 80’s butch aesthetic = a Billy that is going to fuck Steve as soon as humanly possible.

Billie Hargrove is _trouble._

 

Steph knows it the second she lays eyes on her. Swaggering into school wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket. Blonde hair cut into a mullet, with a feather earring hanging off one ear like she’s Rob Lowe. She looks like she could be a boy if not for the cherry red lipstick and the delicate curve of her jaw. She has big blue eyes, and she’s not shy about staring. She gives Steph an obvious, drawn out once over as she passes in the hall. Instead of glancing away when she sees Steph looking back at her, she winks.

 

It makes Steph’s heart stutter and she might tinge a little pink. She’s the one who loses the game of chicken, and immediately averts her gaze.

 

It’s just, she’s not used to people looking at her like that. She’s a Nice Girl. She wears her hair in a sensible bob. Her skirts are never too short. She’s thin, flat-chested, and taller than a lot of the boys. Maybe she can be pretty in that girl next door sort of way, if she does her makeup and dresses up. Most of the time, she doesn’t bother. She doesn’t really want attention. She’s never been that interested in boys, or dating, or any of the other things girls are supposed to like.

 

But maybe she thinks about that wink all day long. Maybe she’s flustered when Billie shows up to basketball tryouts, and it almost throws her off badly enough to miss a few shots. Steph is good at basketball. She’s the best on the team. Except now, it looks like Billie is better, and she’s not sure how to feel about that.

 

***

 

“So. The famous Queen Stephanie. I was wondering if you ever had fun.” Billie cocks an eyebrow. Speaking just loud enough to be heard over the thumping music.

 

Steph gets invited to most of the parties. She’s good at sports. She has some degree of social skills. She’s presentable, but non-threatening. Never going to steal anyone’s boyfriend.

 

“It’s um… Steph.” She clutches her beer close to her chest. Like maybe it’s a physical barrier. Billie is standing very close. The fact that she’s half a head shorter than Steph doesn’t make her any less intimidating.

 

She places her hand against the wall. Leans so casual. She’s in the usual leather jacket, paired with a tight white t-shirt that barely comes halfway down her toned, flat stomach. Her black bra is clearly visible through the thin fabric. Her dark jeans are tight enough to show her muscular thighs. The curve of her ass. Not that Steph’s been looking. Or well. She’s been trying not to.

 

“Billie. Not that you’ve ever asked.”

 

“I know your name.” Steph wrinkles her nose. “I see you like. Three times a week. At practice.”

 

“And yet, you’ve never said hello. What’s a girl supposed to think? Are you just shy or something?” Billie leans in even closer. She smells spicy. Musky. Like men’s cologne at the department store.

 

“I mean—I don’t know. Maybe.”

 

“That’s OK, baby. I don’t mind a challenge.” Billie smiles. Bright red lips hitching upwards. Fuck. Steph is staring at her mouth. Billie must know it. She laughs a little when Steph’s gaze flicks back up to meet her eyes.

 

“You’re weird.”

 

“Guess that’s a word for it.” Billie slips a silver flask out of her jacket pocket and sips it. Leaving lipstick marks on the spout. She offers it to Steph.

 

It’s probably rude not to take it. So Steph takes a small sip, chokes a little, and immediately chases the harsh whiskey with her lukewarm Hamm’s. Billie rolls her eyes and pockets the flask again.

 

“What, you never had the real stuff before?”

 

“Not without mixer.” Steph coughs again. “Wow that’s strong.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t worry. It’s never too late to start your liquor education. We’ll make you a connoisseur in no time.”

 

Billie loops her hand around Steph’s wrist and starts walking. Steph follows. A little confused as to why.

 

“Um… where are we going?”

 

“For a smoke. Do you smoke?”

 

“No…?”

 

“Color me shocked.”

 

Billie opens the front door, leading them out onto the porch. There are a few kids in the corner, huddled around a joint. Billie leans against the railing on the other side of the deck. She flicks a cigarette out from a pack of menthols and lights it with a zippo. Steph just kind of stands next to her. Awkward.

 

Then Billy is holding the cigarette out. All but placing it between Steph’s lips. Is this the peer pressure health class warned about? It’s definitely effective. Steph takes the cigarette between her fingers and gives it a puff. Probably doesn’t inhale deep enough. The smoke is paradoxically cool in her throat.

 

She hands the cigarette back. Billie takes a long drag and blows out a smoke ring.

 

“You’re cute.” She raises an eyebrow.

 

“Um—thanks?”

 

“Wanna see my car?”

 

Steph blinks. She knows what that means when a boy says it. Knows about getting shown _the back seat_ of someone’s car. She knows about makeout spots, and heavy petting, and fucking on lovers lane. Tommy said something similar the night of Junior Prom, when Steph was in a gaudy dress, and much too drunk. She let Tommy drive them off into the woods. Let him do a lot of other things that ran the gamut from disappointing to painful.

 

She’s pretty damn sure all of that is exactly what Billie means. Which is. A lot to process.

 

Before she can respond, though, Carol bursts out the door. Loud, an obnoxious as always. Already coming towards them.

 

“Stephie! I’ve been looking fucking everywhere for you. C’mon. We’re doing jell-o shots.” She loops her arm through Steph’s and starts pulling her away. Barely sparing a suspicious glance for Billie.

 

Carol doesn’t like Billie. Has already complained an awful lot about how she dresses like a _tomboy_ and how she’s a _slut._ Carol doesn’t like Billie because Tommy does. A lot of the boys do. Who could blame them? Just look at her.

 

Billie smiles and shrugs. She doesn’t follow them back into the house. Carol does an excellent job of staying glued to Steph’s hip the rest of the night. It’s only when Steph excuses herself to the bathroom that Billie finds her again. Tucks a phone number into her hand. Says they should go to a movie or something. It leaves Steph’s heart racing in a way she doesn’t really want to contemplate.

 

***

 

Steph has never really reckoned with the term _lesbian_ before. She always hoped that one day a switch would flick, and she’d suddenly start chasing boys the way all her friends do. She even thought that maybe she’d end up one of those old maids with several cats instead of children. She didn’t dare contemplate the way she always looked at her female classmates a few seconds too long. Admiring the soft curves of their bodies. Their pretty smiles. She tried to forget the way she used to kiss other girls on the playground, when she was young enough for it to be a game. Or the time she and Emily Peterson went swimming naked in the pool and it was the most exhilarating thing she’d ever experienced.

 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, trying on different colors of lipstick, with her hair in hot curlers, stomach twisting in knots a full two hours before Billie is supposed to pick her up to go to the movies—Steph is probably having what could be considered an existential crisis. It’s not like it’s weird for her to go to the movies with another girl. Except this seems different. It doesn’t feel like catching a matinee with Carol. It feels more like going out for burgers with Jonathan Byers after chemistry class, and having him stammer about photography and The Clash, all awkward tension. He paid for them both and leaned in like he was going to kiss her in the parking lot, before chickening out at the last second. At the time, she couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or relieved.

 

She probably uses too much hair spray. Does her eyeliner and mascara and goes with a light pink lipstick. She puts on a thin yellow sundress that’s patterned with white magnolias. It falls just above her knees. She puts a soft green cardigan on over it, because the theater is too cold for spaghetti straps. And maybe she’s afraid to wear something too revealing. She’s already taller than Billie. So flats.

 

She’s ready way too early and ends up pacing in the living room as some soap opera drones on in the background. It’s a good thing her parents aren’t home. Billie announces her arrival by laying down on the horn. Steph rushes out the door, barely remembering her purse.

 

She doesn’t get any less flustered when she slides into the passenger's seat. Billie’s in a dark red button down, that’s actually more unbuttoned  than anything. It dips well below Billie’s chest, exposing the center of her black lacy bra. Her cleavage in clear view. The silver cross resting between her breasts seems like a joke. The shirt is tied right above her belt so it cinches around her narrow waist. Her jeans as skin tight as always. She’s fucking _sexy_ and Steph doesn’t know how to handle it.

 

“Aw, look at that. You got all dolled up for me.” Billie revs the engine.

 

Then they’re peeling off down the driveway. Steph barely keeps from squealing. She buckles her seat belt and holds onto the door as they drive down the back roads of Hawkins at least twenty miles over the speed limit. Heavy metal blasts over the radio. Billie drums her fingers on the steering wheel and sings along to the chorus.

 

_Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch? Do you wanna touch me there?_

 

She’s got a nice voice. Deep and throaty, from all the whiskey and cigarettes.

 

Despite Billie’s driving, they make it to the theater just minutes before the movie starts. Billie picked it. Some horror movie. _Sorority House Massacre._ Definitely not something Steph would watch by herself. She doesn’t particularly like horror. But she knows boys like to take girls to scary movies as an excuse to put an arm around them. And girls like to be taken to scary movies as an excuse to cuddle up against their date. If Billie is going for the same effect… well, Steph isn’t going to complain.

 

Billie buys the tickets. Steph gets the soda. They walk into the nearly empty theater just as the previews are ending. They sit in the very back, where it’s dark and it feels like they’re alone. Steph’s pulse is racing. She’s breathing a little too fast.

 

It doesn’t help that the murder starts right after the opening credits. She doesn’t even think about it. She’s just instantly pressed up against Billie. Clutching her (surprisingly muscular) arm as she yelps at the first jump scare. She can tell Billie is smirking, in the dim light of the flickering screen.

 

She turns her hand over and gently intertwines her long fingers with Steph’s. It’s so easy. So natural.

 

Steph’s panties are sticky and she’s slightly mortified. She feels so hot all over. Especially when Billie squeezes her hand. Starts stroking their fingers together. It sends sparks of electricity up Steph’s spine.

 

She’s barely paying attention to the movie. They can’t be more than twenty minutes in when Billie lets go of her hand in favor of draping an arm around her shoulders. Billie smells so good. That spicy, musky scent that Steph wants to roll around in.

 

Then Billie’s reaching up. Placing a few fingers on Steph’s jaw and turning her head. It’s gentle. But so fucking aggressive. So in control. It makes Steph want to melt into the floor. And that’s before Billie leans in and lets their lips brush together.

 

Steph can’t help gasping. Billy’s mouth is smaller than Tommy’s. Softer. There’s no scratch of stubble against smooth skin. But she’s pushy. Flicking her tongue, sliding it into Steph’s mouth. Stealing her breath away. Steph’s dizzy. Can barely collect herself enough to reciprocate.

 

Billie pulls back after a moment. Eyes wide with something like hunger. Then she’s running her hand up Steph’s bare thigh. Underneath her skirt. The sheer audacity of it is thrilling. Steph might spread her legs a little. It’s as much an invitation as she can give without seeming like a total slut. Billie leans in for another kiss. Then the pads of her fingers are tracing over the damp cotton of Steph’s panties. Teasing where she’s hot and wet and aching.

 

It seems like a fever dream. Something out of a steamy, late night fantasy that would have Steph grinding against a pillow until she shivers apart. But it’s real. It’s real, it’s happening way too fast, she can barely keep track of the situation. Billie’s tongue is in her mouth and she’s rubbing such delicate circles around Steph’s clit. Steph is basically sitting in a puddle at this point. She can’t breathe. Flushed all over. She might whimper into Billie’s mouth. Billie pulls away. Laughing softly.

 

“Shhh, you gotta keep quiet, baby,” Billie whispers against the shell of her ear. “You don’t wanna get thrown out of the theater, right?”

 

Steph bites her lip. Billie dips down to kiss her neck. Tugs her panties out of the way. Then it’s bare fingers on slick skin. Steph’s gripping the arm rests with white knuckles, trying to stay quiet.

 

Steph can’t suppress the little choked noise when two of Billie’s fingers slide into her. Billie’s thumb drags across her swollen clit. Steph can already feel the tension pooling. Her thighs twitch and she spreads them even wider. Billie starts to fuck her. So slow. But so forceful. Fingers thrusting, making dirty slick noises that the surround sound screaming of the movie barely cover up.

 

Billie runs a hand up Steph’s neck, tangles her fingers in the soft hair at the base of her skull. Kisses her again with such exuberant lust.

 

Steph is coming. Hips jerking. Whole body rolling as she shivers through it. Dazed and breathless. Billie pulls back. Withdraws her fingers, smirking, and raises them to her lips, licking off the slick.

 

“Damn, you’re easy.”

 

“Shut up,” Steph huffs. Not sure if she’s offended. Billie said it like a compliment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goin hardcore for that Faith and Buffy fem/softbutch vibe, don't @ me. 
> 
> Title from [Sappho](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gwbxCI2L3w) by Frankie Cosmos.


	2. You're The Right Kind Of Sinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note the addition of tags: Overstimulation, Under-Negotiated Kink

“Guess what I heard,” Carol titters, pulling yet another shade of lipstick of the shelf. Opening it. Testing it on her hand. 

 

“What?” Steph tries not to sigh, holding a bottle of nail polish. She doesn’t really like going shopping. She doesn’t really like Carol. But Carol is ostensibly, her best friend. They’ve been  _ best friends _ since the third grade, when Carol sat down beside her at the lunch table and asked to braid her hair. It’s always seemed easier to go along with whatever Carol says. Because it means Steph doesn’t have to make an effort to find other people to hang out with. Steph is kind of  _ nervous  _ around girls. Not so bad that she can’t hold a conversation. But she never knows the right thing to say, so she’s just kind of quiet, and Carol talks enough for both of them. So. 

 

“Patrick Button has a thing for you.”

 

“Neat.” Steph rolls her eyes. “He’s literally never talked to me before.”

 

“So what? He’s hot, right? I mean, I’d bang him.”

 

“You’d bang anybody.”

 

“Oh my god, you bitch!” Carol laughs. She has kind of a grating laugh. High pitched and nasal. Tommy always says she’s annoying behind her back. But that’s usually when he’s drunk and trying to get into Steph’s pants instead. 

 

Patrick Button is fine. He’s on the football team. Broad shouldered. Chiseled jaw. Soft blonde hair. He’s an All American boy. Cute in the same way Steph is cute. Not the top of the heap, but by no means ugly. 

 

“Who told you?” Steph sets down the nail polish and starts looking at eyeliner instead. She’s not going to buy anything. 

 

She’s definitely not thinking about what colors Billie might like. 

 

“I mean, Patrick did. Not in so many words. But he was super high at Jane’s party last week and he was like, asking if you were single and what your deal was. I told him he should talk to you. But you know how guys are. He’s probably shy. So you should flirt a little. Start things off.”

 

“Ugh.”

 

“Why  _ ugh? _ He’s totally your type.”

 

“I don’t have a type, Carol.”

 

“Sure you do. You like beefcake. We watched Masters Of The Universe together. You totally flick the bean to like, Dolph Lundgren.”

 

More like Courtney Cox. But that’s not the sort of thing you say. 

 

“OK. Sure. I’ll talk to him or something,” Steph shrugs. It’s easier not to argue. 

 

***

 

On the second date, if you could call it that, Billie comes over watch a movie at Steph’s house. Steph’s parents are gone. Billie brings a bottle of whiskey, a copy of Nightmare on Elm Street, and a canvas bag that contains a ‘surprise’ she refuses to elaborate on. Billie doesn’t make a fuss when Steph mixes the whiskey with some Tab. They make it maybe ten minutes into the movie before Billie pulls Steph into her lap and starts undressing her. 

 

Steph feels so exposed, shirtless in broad daylight. The living room curtains are drawn. But it still  _ feels _ risky. Especially when Billie unhooks her bra. Cups her small breasts and squeezes. 

 

“You’ve got such cute little tits.” Billie pinches one of Steph’s nipples. Rolls it between her fingers. 

 

It sends a little lurch of heat through Steph’s body. Hmm. She hadn’t really known about that. Sure, her nipples get sensitive sometimes. But… 

 

Billie does the same thing with the other nipple. Pinching a little harder. Steph squirms. Already so wet. Maybe grinding against Billie’s leg a little. The rough fabric of her jeans feels  _ good _ through Steph’s soaked panties. 

 

“You ever used a vibrator before?” Billie reaches for the bag on the coffee table. 

 

“Um… like a sex toy?” Steph blinks.

 

“I’ll take that as a no. Get ready for the ride of your life, baby girl.”

 

Billie pulls out an interesting contraption. It looks like a plastic ball on a handle. 

 

“This is a hitachi wand. Otherwise known as a girl’s best friend.” Billie smiles. Flicks a switch. And the thing starts buzzing. Vibrating. 

 

Steph stares wide eyed. Billie turns it off, just for a moment. Then she hikes up Steph’s skirt. Presses the rounded end of the thing up against Steph’s clit. And turns it on. 

 

The sensation is a shock. The rapid vibration. Intense stimulation. It’s instinct to jerk away, but Billie is holding her by the hip. 

 

“It’s OK, just relax.” She’s staring. Lips parted. Eyes blown wide. 

 

Steph feels a little like she’s hyperventilating. It’s overwhelming. Too much. Too fast. She’s careening down a steep hill with no breaks. 

 

_ “Fuck,” _ she moans. Much too loud. It’s embarrassing. 

 

Then she’s shuddering. Flooded with pleasure. Probably leaving a wet spot on Billie’s jeans. She’s hot all over. Still pulsing with the orgasm. 

 

Billie doesn’t turn the vibrator off. She holds onto Steph’s hip tighter. Not letting her pull away. 

 

“Too much,” Steph grasps weakly at Billie’s shoulder. “It—I can’t—“

 

It hurts. Well. Kind of. It hurts, and it feels good, it’s a deep, twisting, ache compounded with the discomfort of  overstimulation. 

 

“Shhh, trust me. You got a couple more in you. Just let it happen.”

 

Something is definitely happening. Steph can’t stop trembling. Surfing a strange edge that makes her want to press closer and twist away in the same breath. It feels like she’s about to piss herself. 

 

Billie turns the vibrator up. 

 

Steph cries out. Her whole body jerks. She  _ gushes.  _ Oh god. Oh god. Did she just pee everywhere? The rush of embarrassment is almost enough to make her faint. The worst thing is how good it felt. Her head is spinning. She can’t breathe. 

 

“Fuck? You squirt?” Billie groans. Still not turning off the vibrator. “Hell yeah, baby. Come on. Gimme some more. I want you to soak me.”

 

_ “Billie,” _ Steph might be starting to tear up a little. She’s a mess. Can’t stop shaking. She’s hanging onto Billie for dear life. Even though Billie is the one who is causing her this exquisite torment. 

 

Apparently, the vibrator has an even higher setting. 

 

Steph screams. Actually screams. Can’t help it. There’s no other outlet for the riptide coursing through her. There’s another spurt of liquid. She’s imploding. 

 

The vibrator stops. She curls in on herself. Hiding her face in Billie’s neck. Billie wraps an arm around her. Whispering to her about how good she is. How sexy she is. 

 

There’s a clink of a belt buckle. Billie shoves her free hand down the front of her jeans. Touching herself. Pulling Steph up into a messy kiss. She moans and tenses after just a minute or two. 

 

Then they’re just sitting on the couch. Sticky. Panting. 

 

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” Billie kisses her on the forehead. 

 

“Tired.”

 

“Yeah, that’ll do it… did you like it, though?”

 

“Uh huh.” Steph raises her head a little. Still feeling kind of dazed and dreamy. 

 

“Good.”

 

*** 

 

Steph was ambivalent at the start of the semester when she got assigned Barb as a lab partner. Because yeah, Barb is kinda weird. The kind of girl that Carol makes fun of while Steph stands by and doesn’t say anything. Everyone calls her fat, or nerdy, or a  _ dyke.  _ But Steph has always felt privately sorry for her. She knows, deep down, that the only difference between the two of them is slightly luckier genetics.

 

Also, Barb isn’t at good at pretending to be normal. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Barb is in love with Nancy Wheeler. She should probably try to hide it a little better than she does. 

 

Still. She doesn’t mind going to Barb’s house after school to work on projects. It’s a house that feels lived in. It’s warm. Full of delicious smells. Barb’s parents are home by five and they always invite Steph to stay for dinner. They’re friends? Kind of? At least, they are when Carol isn’t around. 

 

“So,” Barb says across the kitchen table. Hesitant as always. Still staring down at her notebook, pencil scratching over paper. “What’s Billie Hargrove like?”

 

“What?” The question is so out of nowhere. Steph’s mouth is half full of a chocolate chip cookie. 

 

“I um… saw you guys at the movie theater the other day.” Barb sounds a little nervous. “I didn’t know you like, hung out.”

 

“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” Steph feels her face going a little pink. God. Fuck. People seeing her and Billie together is probably an issue Steph should have been a lot more worried about than she was in the moment. 

 

“Is she… nice?”

 

“Kinda. She’s weird. But she’s cool I guess. Pretty much acts like a guy. She’s super into metal and slasher movies.”

 

“Cool.” Barb nods. Still not making eye contact. 

 

“What movie did you go see?”

 

“Sorority House Massacre. I waved but I guess you didn’t see me.”

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

“Oh, woah. That’s wild!” Steph is gonna drop dead right there. 

 

Barb finally looks up. “I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Tell anyone what.” Steph says on reflex. All the alarm bells are going off in her head. She’s ruined. If anyone finds out she was sucking face with Billie Hargrove in the back of a movie theater, her social life is completely toast. 

 

“Nothing.” Barb smiles a little. And goes back to what she was writing. 

 

It takes at least ten minutes for Steph to stop feeling like she’s gonna have a heart attack. She shoves another chocolate chip cookie in her mouth. Barb’s mom is such a good baker. Sometimes Steph’s a stress eater. She makes up for it by probably not eating enough the rest of the time. 

 

“Billie and I aren’t like—we’re not like close or anything.”

 

“OK.” Barb nods. 

 

“Carol doesn’t like her.”

 

“Yeah. She wouldn’t.”

 

“I think most people don’t like her, actually. Which is kinda dumb. It’s not her fault that all the guys are drooling over her.”

 

“She’s very pretty.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

***

 

Billie starts standing next to Steph in the showers after basketball practice. Always chatting casually. Only raking her eyes up and down Steph’s body when nobody’s looking. It’s exciting, if not a little terrifying. Especially when they linger so long that they’re the only ones left in the locker room. 

 

More than once, Billie has pinned her against the cold tile. Kissed her. Put a hand between her legs and finger fucked her through a shuddery orgasm. Billie seems to enjoy the sheer power of it. She doesn’t even let Steph do anything for her in return. She’ll just watch intently as Steph falls apart, smiling like a shark, and then she’ll walk off to get dressed like nothing happened.

 

It’s kind of weird, how Billie doesn’t let Steph touch her. She always just says she’s  _ good _ or she’s  _ fine _ after she makes Steph come her brains out. 

 

“Are you like—do you think I’d be bad at it or something? I mean, I’m not that experienced, but you could tell me what to do…” Steph asks, sweaty, sprawled across the back seat of Billie’s Camaro. Billie still has all her clothes on, while Steph is naked. 

 

“Oh, nah, babe. It’s not like that at all.” Billie smooths a hand up Steph’s thigh. “I just, don’t wanna rush you. Like—you haven’t before, with a girl. Right?”

 

“No.” Steph feels herself flushing an even deeper shade of pink. 

 

“So it’s fine. I get off on you getting off. That’s my favorite part. If you really wanna do something for me, that’s cool and all. I’m just not that stressed about it.”

 

“I wanna try.” Steph sits up. She probably looks like a total mess. But that’s not her fault. 

 

“OK.” Billie shrugs. She’s so casual as she strips off her jeans. Slides her lacy red panties down her thighs. Steph has no idea what to do. But Billie doesn’t wait for her to take the initiative. 

 

She settles between Steph’s spread legs. Leaning against her chest. She grabs Steph’s hand, and places it directly against her pussy. She’s so wet. Hot and velvety… Steph can’t help the sharp intake of breath. 

 

“Just touch me like you’d touch yourself.”

 

It sounds so simple. Steph’s still jittery. Anxiety rising in her chest. She starts off feather light. Just tracing her fingers between the slick folds. Brushing against Billie’s clit. 

 

Billie lets out a small sigh. Relaxes against her. “Yeah, baby. That feels nice.”

 

Steph picks up a rhythm. Rubbing gentle circles around Billie’s clit. Dipping down to slick her fingers again every so often. 

 

“Faster.” Billie  _ whines _ . Eyes closed. Lips parted. She’s clutching Steph’s thigh. 

 

Steph speeds up. Soaked all over again because of the sounds Billie’s making. The little gasps and moans. Her back arches. Her nails dig into Steph’s skin. 

 

Then her hips jerk. She shudders. Pushes Steph’s hand away. 

 

“Was that—did you… ?” Steph sounds breathless. Like she’s the one who just got fucked. 

 

“Mmmhhmmm.” Billie turns her head, just enough to kiss along Steph’s jaw. 

 

Steph feels some type of warm fuzzy and she’s trying not to think too hard about it. 

 

***

 

Steph isn’t prepared for Billie to sit down at her lunch table. Right next to her. Because like, with everything else they do, they usually don’t talk much at school. That’s the status quo. And she’s not even sure how to do damage control. Doesn’t have time. Because Carol wasn’t far behind her in the lunch line and…

 

“Hi Billie.” Carol all but slams her tray down as she sits opposite them. “No space with the metalheads today?”

 

“Didn’t feel like dealing with the sausage fest,” Billie bites an apple. Somehow manages to be  _ aggressive  _ about it. 

 

“Have I ever told you how much I  _ love _ your jacket? Like where’d you’d get it? A garage sale?” Carol matches the sudden confrontational energy with a practiced effortlessness. 

 

“It belonged to my grandpa, actually. He was in the Hell’s Angels.”

 

“Oh my gosh. That’s so super cute that he was a criminal!” 

 

Steph wants to disappear into the floor. And then Billie puts a hand on her bare knee. The conditioned response is a shock if heat. A twinge of arousal. It’s so not the place or time. At least they’re basically against a wall. It’s not like anyone passing by could see. She still pushes Billie’s hand away. Because she should. But when Billie puts her hand right back, a little higher even, and squeezes, well. The desire to fight it drains pretty rapidly. 

 

“Carol,” Steph says quietly. “C’mon.”

 

Carol looks like she’s just been slapped across the face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know gang memorabilia was trendy. Did I miss a memo?”

 

Billie just looks at her. Eyebrow half raised. The silence is tense. Uncomfortable. Carol even shifts in her seat. People usually take the bait or defer. This is… just weird. 

 

“So,” Billie turns to Steph, like Carol isn’t there. “We gonna hang out at your place tomorrow? I gotta drop Maxine off at the arcade and probably pick her up at like seven. But otherwise I’m good for whatever.”

 

“Um, sure. We could do that.” Steph can feel the heat of Carol’s glower. 

 

“It’s Tommy’s birthday on Sunday.” Carol all but hisses.

 

“Oh… were we planning the party for tomorrow? I thought it was next week since he’s like, hanging out with his family or whatever.”

 

“We’re going to brunch tomorrow.”

 

“OK. Um, that’s fine. Just let me know where.” Steph blinks. She doesn’t remember any previous discussion of this. Suspects it might have been made up on the spot. 

 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your plans,” Carol huffs. 

 

“It’s cool, man. I can pick her up from wherever.” Billie’s hand slides a little farther up Steph’s leg.  _ Possessive.  _

 

It probably shouldn’t be so intoxicating. But when Billie pins her on a locker room bench after practice and finger fucks her, she comes even faster than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything hurts and I'm dying, but goddamnit the world needs more sapphic trash. So... hopefully next update next weekend? Idk man.


	3. Tumble To The Ground And Then You Say

“Oh. You um—you don’t have to—I… doesn’t it taste bad?”

 

Billie just  _ looks at her _ . They’re in Steph’s bedroom, sprawled across the flowery pink sheets. Stripped down, breathing too fast. There’s a Madonna record on, and some candles lit,  because that’s who Steph is as a person. 

 

Billie’s head is between Steph’s spread legs. So close Steph can feel the warmth of her breath. 

 

“Baby. I like pussy. I like how it feels. I like how it smells. I like how it tastes.” As if to demonstrate, Billie flicks out her tongue. Just barely traces it between the slick folds of skin. Steph gasps. Fists her hands in the sheets. Billie laughs at her. “Nobody’s ever gone down on you, huh?”

 

“No.”

 

“Men are garbage.”

 

And with that, Billie dives right in. Dragging her tongue across Steph’s clit. Lapping at it. Tracing delicate circles until Steph is squirming. Tensing. Thighs trembling. 

 

Billie slips two fingers in her. Rubbing against that spot that makes everything a lot more  _ urgent.  _ Steph moans. Eyes shut tight. Panting. Her nerves are buzzing. Ramping up to a frenzy. 

 

It’s so sudden. She clenches around Billie’s fingers. Hips rolling. Billie doesn’t fucking stop. She just keeps going. Licking Steph’s clit. Fucking her faster. The desperate cries,  _ Billie, please, I—oh my god—oh fuck— _ do nothing to slow it down. Maybe Steph doesn’t want it to slow down. She’s shivering. Back arched. Strung out on endorphins. 

 

She comes again. And again. Billie just keeps going. Her jaw must hurt. She must be tired. Steph tries to protest, but can’t form words. Has no concept of time. There’s a growing wet spot on the bed underneath her. She’s gushing. The way she does when Billie works her over until she can’t hold it back.

 

She’s wrung out and frayed and basically on a different planet by the time Billie sits up and wipes her mouth on the back of her arm. Her face is still a mess of slick. Her eyes look a little glazed over. 

 

“I can never believe how easy it is to make you come. Like. It’s wild.”

 

Steph has no response for that. She almost feels like she’s gonna pass out. Billie crawls up the bed and wraps around her. Kissing her neck. Steph relaxes and just floats for a while. 

 

**

  
  


To the surprise of absolutely no one, Brunch is less a celebration of Tommy’s birthday, and more a tirade about what a bitch Billie Hargrove is, and  _ oh my god Steph I can't believe you’re hanging out with her, don’t you know she’s like, a dyke? _

 

“Is she really?” Tommy leers, arm around Carol’s shoulder, mouth still half full of pancake. “Steph, you should totally hook up with her and let me watch.”

 

Carol elbows him in the ribs. “Tommy, you’re an idiot. Shut up.”

 

“She’s pretty nice if you give her a chance.” Steph says so quiet, hands wrapped around her coffee mug. She’s been too nervous to do more than pick at her omelette. She’s at least sitting in her own side of the booth, slightly away from Tommy and Carol. She’s still counting the minutes until Billie is supposed to pick her up. 

 

“Yeah, right. She kicked Doug Noonan in the nuts so hard he had to go to the hospital.”

 

“In all fairness, Doug deserved it.” Tommy laughs. “He should know better than to just grab someone’s tits during dodgeball.”

 

“Not the point.”

 

Billie did get in trouble for that. Because the coach didn’t  _ see _ Doug grab her chest. But she ultimately got off the hook, because there was a basketball game coming up. And you can’t suspend the star player. Even if it is the Women’s basketball team, which the school cares 50% less about than any of the other teams. 

 

“The point is.” Carol dumps sugar in her coffee. Stirring it almostly violently. “Billie is a fucking weirdo, and it’s gonna rub off on you.”

 

“I’m allowed to have other friends, you know.” Steph says before she can stop herself. Because it’s a conversation they’ve had before. Pretty much anytime Steph makes plans and doesn’t invite Carol. Which doesn’t happen that often. Maybe because Carol freaks out so much. This conversation usually ends in tears, even if Steph basically says nothing. 

 

“Oooooh, a catfight. Just what I wanted for my birthday, how did you guys know?” Tommy is smiling. But it seems forced. 

 

He can’t escape Carol any more than Steph can. No other girls will even consider him, because they’re afraid of Carol’s wrath. 

 

“I’m not saying you can’t have friends. Don’t twist my words like that,” Carol snaps. “I’m just trying to save you from social suicide. But if you wanna hang out with the metal dyke, go the fuck ahead. Self destruct. See what I care.”

 

“Carol—“

 

“No, no. You’re right. It’s totally not my business that you wanna become a social outcast. So what if I can’t invite you to parties anymore or talk to you in public? If you want Billie Hargrove to be your only friend, I can’t stop you.”

 

“I think that’s a little dramatic—“

 

And then the tears. “Why do you hate me?” Carol blubbers. Other restaurant patrons are staring. Steph actually sinks down in her seat. 

 

As if on cue, the bell above the door tinkles. Steph is facing the entrance. She watches Billie walk in, not even wearing a shirt today. Just a loose tweed vest and no bra. Steph is going to die. 

 

She’s not sure how to signal that it’s a really bad time. Maybe she actually wants Billie to interrupt what’s happening. Rescue her. 

 

Billie slides into the booth next to her. Carol’s crocodile tears stop abruptly as they started. She immediately grabs a napkin at pats her cheeks, even though the damage is done and her mascara has already given her raccoon eyes. 

 

“Looks like I missed a real fun time.” Billie reaches for Steph’s coffee mug and takes a sip without missing a beat. She turns to Tommy. “Happy birthday or something?”

 

“Thanks.” Even Tommy only manages a lecherous grin for about two seconds. Then he’s looking at Carol. Waiting for the grenade to detonate. 

 

If she weren’t sitting on the inside of the booth, she probably would have stormed off immediately. As it is, she doesn’t seem to know what to do. Billie waves down the waitress. 

 

“Hey, do you mind splitting the check? I got hers and could I also get a coffee to go?” 

 

She’s handing over a twenty dollar bill before Steph can stop her. There’s dead silence as the waitress disappears. 

 

The outburst just… doesn’t come. Carol sits there in silence. Eyes narrowed. Until the waitress comes back with the coffee and the change. 

 

“Good talk, guys.” Billie gives a little two fingered salute before standing and walking away. Steph goes after her. Wondering exactly what sort of fallout she should expect when Carol calls her at like 11pm. 

 

They get into Billie’s car, Iron Maiden blasting as they peel out of the parking lot. 

 

“That seemed like an awkward fuckin breakfast.” Billie places a cigarette between her lips and lights it, balancing her coffee between her knees as they sit at a stop light. “Why does Carol have such a stick up her ass? Is she always like that?”

 

“I don’t know. She’s… sensitive.”

 

“More like she’s the worst sort of jealous girlfriend. Like. You’d think she’s the one with her face between your legs every day. Wait. Like–she’s not, right?”

 

“No! Jesus Christ. She would never. She’s not gay. Ostensibly that’s what she’s upset about. That um, you’re gay. And I’m hanging out with you.”

 

“Oh what the fuck ever.” Billie snorts. “That just makes her even more of a bitch than I thought she was.”

 

“This is Indiana, Billie. Nobody likes gay people.”

 

“Yeah. OK.”

 

The rest of the drive is quiet. Well, relatively quiet. There’s still metal blasting over the speakers. But they don’t really talk a lot more. 

 

Even when they get back to Steph’s house, Billie just pushes her up against a wall and kisses her. They end up in the pool. Completely naked. Steph sitting up on the edge of it while Billie eats her out. She’s so pretty. Blonde hair wet and floating around her shoulders. 

 

Steph’s makeup runs when she slides down into the pool. Billie holds her. It feels weightless. There’s something primal about pressing up against someone in the water. 

 

“So if Carol’s not your girlfriend, is that a position you’re looking to fill?” Billie raises an eyebrow. Tone all light and breezy. 

 

“I dunno. Maybe. Know anybody who’d be interested?” 

 

“I might send in an application.”

 

***

 

Carol doesn’t call Saturday night. Or Sunday. On Monday, she’s not waiting by Steph’s locker. 

 

In history class, she sits with Jill Gordon and Cindi James, and doesn’t save a seat for Steph. It’s the same story at lunch. She sits with Tommy and all his dumb friends, and there’s no room for Steph at all. 

 

Billie is nowhere to be seen. She skips lunch to go smoke cigarettes behind the gym pretty often. So, Steph does something probably kind of inadvisable. And walks over to where Barb and Nancy Wheeler are sitting by themselves in the corner. 

 

“Um, hi.” She stands over them. Awkward as all hell. “Can I join you guys?”

 

“Sure.” Barb smiles, moves her bag off the bench so Steph can sit next to her. Nancy looks a bit puzzled, but not unfriendly. 

 

Barb starts talking about their science homework. Nancy is in an even more advanced class than they are. She ends up pulling out a notebook and explaining molar mass conversions. It’s like the tenth time Steph’s had someone try to make her understand it, but she finally  _ gets it _ . Because Nancy is nice. And patient. And as it turns out, super smart. 

 

Steph is not good at school. In fact, she’s kinda dumb. Not dumb like most of the popular girls pretend to be, so that boys like them better. She actually has trouble understanding things. Almost got held back in fifth grade because she couldn’t for the life of her comprehend fractions. It’s not that she doesn’t try—like her dad is always saying.  _ If you just applied yourself, you’d get better grades.  _ She tries really hard and still gets C’s. No amount of studying seems to stick. The only reason she’s getting a B in chemistry right now is that Barb keeps correcting her work. Explaining and re-explaining things everyone else seems to get on the first try. 

 

By the end of lunch, Nancy is helping her make flashcards for polyatomic ions, and saying they can totally have a study party at Barb’s on Sunday because she’s got a physics test coming up and needs to cram anyway. Steph isn’t sure exactly how to cope with someone being so helpful for no discernible reason. But she thinks maybe sitting with Barb and Nancy is a lot nicer than sitting with Carol has ever been. 

 

***

 

“Um. Hey.” Tommy’s shoulders are kind of hunched over as he approaches Steph’s locker. 

 

“Hi.” Steph forces a smile. It’s rare to see Tommy without Carol. It usually means he’s trying to get laid. 

 

“I just wanted to let you know—uh—I don’t think we’re gonna end up having a party or anything this weekend.”

 

“Oh. OK.” Steph’s stomach twists a little. She wants to say  _ just uninvite me, there’s no need to lie.  _ But she gets it. Tommy isn’t the one who’s mad at her. This is better than Carol’s shrieking would be if she dared to still show at the party after days of the silent treatment. 

 

Tommy doesn’t seem to know what to say. Like he already ran out of script. Did Carol send him? Or is he doing this because he understands it’s the path of least resistance?

 

“I hope you have a nice weekend.” Steph closes her

locker and spins the lock. 

 

“Yeah. You too.” He nods. It looks like he wants to say something else. 

 

Steph doesn’t really care about what he might have to offer. She just walks away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weeping.


	4. Roll Me In Designer Sheets

_ Stephanie Harrington is a dyke.  _

 

It’s sprayed up on the movie theater marquee in bright red letters. Steph doesn’t know what to do besides just stand there and stare at it. She feels numb. 

 

“What the everloving fuck?” Billie groans. She looks pissed. Fists clenched. 

 

Steph knows who did it. There’s only one person who would care enough to bother. 

 

“Come on.” Billie already dragging her into the theater. Marching up to the ticket booth. 

 

Steph doesn’t even have the chance to ask  _ what are you doing.  _

 

“Hi, sir. I could help but notice your marquee had been vandalized. It’s such a shame that some young hooligan would do such a thing. Would you like help cleaning it off?”

 

And the next thing Steph knows, they’ve got a ladder, a rag and a bucket of industrial-grade cleaner. She holds the ladder steady while Billie scrubs. She’s still kind of spaced out. Like she’s floating above herself. 

 

She hears the whooping. The jeering. Even when the car is halfway up the street. 

 

“Washing it off doesn’t make it less true!” Carol’s shrill laugh floats out the open window of Tommy’s honda. 

 

Steph doesn’t even look at them. 

 

Billie throws the wet rag at Tommy’s windshield. It’s a perfect hit. He swerves. Carol screams. The car screeches to a halt. Billie practically jumps off the ladder and is stalking towards them in a matter of seconds. Steph grabs for her arm, trying to hold her back. But it’s useless. 

 

“What the hell! You could have killed us!” Carol screams. Tommy’s getting out of the car. Pulling the rag off his windshield. Carol gets out too. Marches right up to Billie. 

 

“Did you do that?” Billie points up towards the marquee. Not backing down. She and Carol are almost nose to nose. 

 

“So what if you we did? I could have written the same thing about you.”

 

“Why didn’t you? Afraid of somebody who might swing back?”

 

“You’re all talk.” Carol hisses. “I’m not scared of you. Nobody’s scared of you.”

 

“Well that’s a mistake.”

 

And then. Billie sucker punches Carol right in the stomach. Hard. She doubles over. But only for a second. Then she’s pulling Billie’s hair. Trying to scratch her face. Billie flips her around and gets her into a choke hold. Carol screams and kicks. Bites Billie’s arm. Billie just tightens her grip. Tommy rushes towards them. Tries to pull them apart. But Billie stomps on his foot and kicks him in the shin, and he seems so surprised by it he stumbles back. 

 

There are sirens in the distance. Someone must have called the cops. Steph rushes forward. Grabs Billie by the shoulder. 

 

“We have to go,” she hisses. 

 

Billie seems reluctant. But she releases her grip. They rush off towards the alley together. Weaving through empty cases of popcorn until they emerge on a new street. They duck into a coffee shop, panting. 

 

“Oh my god.” Carol covers her face. Bends over. Maybe hyperventilating. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

 

“What? She deserved it—“

 

“But you can’t just  _ do that.  _ You can’t just deck people.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“What if she goes to the cops? There were witnesses—like—you  _ can’t  _ punch people just because you’re upset.”

 

“Listen. People don’t go to the cops over shit like that. We’re fine. And, that’s how you gotta deal with a bully, OK? If you don’t rough them up, they just keep coming at you.”

 

“I want to go home.” Steph feels like crying. She might be crying. Her face feels wet. 

 

“Sure. Totally. I’ll take you home. It’s gonna be all right…”

 

Billie puts a hand on her shoulder, but Steph pulls away. They walk in silence back to the car. Billie doesn’t even put music on. Steph just stares out the window until they pull up in her driveway. 

 

“I um… I’m sorry?” Billie sounds so uncertain. Lost in a way she never is. She’s supposed to be the one who has the answers. Steph certainly doesn’t. 

 

“I just want to be alone.” Steph gets out of the car. Shuts the door harder than necessary. 

 

She’s upstairs crying into her pillow within minutes. But it still seems like a long time before she hears the Camaro’s engine rev and then get quieter as it drives away. 

 

***

 

Steph can’t stay mad for long. It’s only a few days before Billie’s back at her house again. Finger fucking her on the kitchen table. Sucking on her tits until they’re swollen and sore. 

 

When they finally make it up to bed, Steph’s knees are shaky. She’s sleepy. She would totally pass out. Except she watches Billie peel off her pants and gets a nasty shock. 

 

“W-what happened?” Steph can’t stop staring at the dark purple bruises striped across the back of Billie’s thighs. Thick lines of purple, bordered with fading green. There are even a few ugly welts where skin broke. The marks go all the way up to her ass. 

 

Billie looks down at her legs as if she’s just noticed. She shrugs with one shoulder before settling into bed and pulling the sheets up to hide her abused skin. 

 

“Carol is a fuckin’ narc. Her mom called my dad.”

 

_ “He  _ did that to you?” Steph’s mouth is hanging open. 

 

“It looks worse than it is. Like. It doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

 

_ “Billie.” _

 

“What? Your dad never gets the belt out?” Billie lights a cigarette. Takes a long drag. Normally, Steph would protest her smoking in the house. But she’s too shocked. 

 

“No. Never.” 

 

“Well that explains a lot. It’s no wonder you’re such a brat,” Billie winks. 

 

It’s not a joke. Why does Billie think this is a joke? 

 

“Your parents shouldn’t hit you like that. Especially when you’re seventeen? That’s not normal.”

 

“If you wanna go take it up with him, be my guest.” Billie ashes her cigarette directly onto the bedside table. 

 

Steph can’t be upset with her right now. She just curls against her. Rests her head on Billie’s chest and holds her. 

 

Next time, if there ever is another altercation, Steph is going to punch Carol herself. 

 

***

 

Nobody talks about the grafiti. Or rather, nobody talks directly to Steph about it. She didn’t really have a lot of friends before. So the fact that she’s become somewhat of an outcast doesn’t actually change her life that much. 

 

Steph sits with Nancy and Barb at lunch pretty much every day now. Has started hanging out with them sometimes on weekends, when she’s not with Billie. Nancy talks about boys occasionally. When it’s just Steph and Barb though. 

 

“Sometimes, when we’re drunk, Nancy and I kiss.” Barb says, flushed bright pink. It’s a Friday night, and they’re at Steph’s house, sharing a bottle of wine. Barb is such a lightweight. It’s hilarious.  “She says it’s just friendly. I don’t know. I still like it a lot.”

 

“Ugh. Billie is such a good kisser.” Steph flops back against the couch dramatically. Like some victorian waif that’s dying of hopeless infatuation. 

 

“She seems like she would be. Is she like… really dominant?”

 

“Oh yeah. Totally.”

 

“That’s um, sexy.” Barb is bright pink. 

 

“It destroys me. She also eats pussy like a goddamn porn star.”

 

“Steph! Oh my god. Well, mazeltov I guess.” Barb cackles. There’s no other word for it.

 

“We should drive to Chicago sometime. Go to a gay bar.” Steph raises her eyebrows. “Get you laaaaid.”

 

“Mmm. That’d be nice. I miss girl scout camp.”

 

“Uh, what now?”

 

“Girl scout camp. I was in the scouts until a couple years ago. Anyone who’s still doing it when they’re sixteen is a lesbian. Me and the other seniors would totally sneak into each other’s cabins to fuck.”

 

“I… am so goddamn impressed.” Steph raises her wineglass and clinks it against Barb’s. On the surface Barb seems like such a prude. But apparently, not so much. 

 

“Yeah. I wish that some of the other girls lived closer. But they’re from all over the state, and we didn’t really keep in touch.” Barb sighs. “Hopefully wherever I go to college, there are lesbians. I can’t wait to move out of this stupid town.”

 

“I don’t really know what I’m gonna do after this year. I mean, I’m not really smart enough to go to college I don’t think.”

 

“I mean, you could definitely still apply! Either way I think you should move. Don’t get stuck here like everyone does.”

 

“Billie doesn’t graduate for another year.”

 

“So wait for her and move together if you want.”

 

“That’s probably too much. We haven’t been together that long.”

 

“But you guys are dating.”

 

“I think so? I don’t know. I’m a mess. Don’t look at me.” 

 

***

 

Hawkins doesn’t usually have many away games. They’re a small team, and before Billie they were never good enough to get to state playoffs or anything. But it’s Saturday night and everyone is on a bus back from Gary. Boisterous on the high of a win. Laughing and talking much too loud, sharing headphones on walkmans. 

 

Steph and Billie are sitting in the back. Billie is participating in the general rowdiness while Steph looks out the window, just watching the barren landscape of empty fields and telephone poles. There’s not much more desolate than Indiana in mid February.

 

Steph has her sweater draped across her lap. Underneath it, Billie’s fingers are intertwined with hers. She feels warm and a little dizzy. Which is stupid, considering everything else they’ve done. 

 

It’s just. Nice. Nice to touch in a semi-public setting. It feels bold, without any actual risk. 

 

Even if anyone saw, most of the girls on the team aren’t the most judgmental people. A lot of them seem to be very close friends in a way that might not be entirely platonic. Angie Jones, the tall, lean, tomboy who wears overalls and could probably bench press more than most guys, might be  _ involved  _ with Ella Brown. The petite blonde cheerleader who wears cherry lipstick and is always glued to Angie’s hip. Never anywhere without each other. Always linking arms, and hugging, and giggling. It’s possible Steph is just seeing what she wants to see. Or maybe it’s that she refused to see things right in front of her for such a long time, because she didn’t want to contemplate what it meant. 

 

“Hey,” Billie squeezes Steph’s hand. “You all right?”

 

“Yeah. Just a little tired.”

 

“You were great out there. I mean, besides how you look in those shorts.” Billie manages to say only halfway sleazy.

 

Steph rolls her eyes. Wonders if anyone’s listening. Or if they’d even take it seriously. But also… people must notice the way Billie goes after anyone that dares play a little too rough with Steph. Like, some random girl from the Gary team knocked Steph on her ass. And then Billie proceeded to follow her around and throw every cheap hip check or elbow that she could. Really, it was a wonder Billie only got one foul. 

 

People might assume that’s just Billie’s personality. That she’d get up in anybody’s face for pretty much any reason. Steph knows better. Billie does actually pick her fights with some forethought. In all the time they’ve been hanging out, Billie hasn’t said a single mean thing to Steph. For example. She’s also perfectly pleasant to Barb and Nancy. To most of the girls on the team. It’s really just people like Carol that she gives a hard time.

 

Maybe everyone is too wrapped up in their own drama to notice. Maybe everyone’s figured it out and they just don’t care.

 

Either way, Steph’s happy to slide down a little farther in the seat. She’s even feeling bold enough to lean against Billie’s arm and press the outsides of their thighs together.

 

It’s a long ride back to Hawkins. Steph gets in the Camero when they’re finally dropped off in the school parking lot. Then Billie’s speeding off. Taking them towards the diner, for pancakes and coffee, even though it’s almost eight o’clock at night.

 

They’re sitting at a stop sign, no other cars in sight, when Billie leans over the armrest to plant a kiss on Steph’s cheek.

 

“Are we dating?” Steph just blurts out. She feels the flush rise in her cheeks. God. 

 

Billie gives her a  _ look _ . One eyebrow raised. Incredulous. 

 

“Well… yeah? I dunno. I guess I assumed we were. It’s not like I’m chasing anyone else around.”

 

“Same. Um. I want to be. Like, officially dating you.”

 

Billie smiles a little. “Cool.”

 

The car rolls into motion again. Steph sits there, bubbling with an intense variety of emotions. She’s never dated anyone before. Does this change anything? Is she gonna do something to mess it up? 

 

They pull into the diner parking lot. Steph unbuckles her seat belt and is about to get out of the car when Billie reaches for her, cupping her chin. She pulls Steph into a kiss. It’s soft. Warm. 

 

“You know, I really like you baby girl.” Billie murmurs. 

 

“I like you a lot too.”

 

“Gay.”

 

“Shut up.” 

 

***

 

“Hey girl!” Carol is standing beside Steph’s locker. They haven’t talked in weeks. Bordering on months. 

 

“Um. Hi.” Steph tenses. Wonders if she really needs her algebra book or if maybe she could just share with someone else and make a run for it. 

 

“Jennifer is having a party on Saturday, and it’s gonna be super lame, but she’s making Jell-o shots so it might be worth it. We should totally go.”

 

Steph spins the wheel on her lock. Carefully opens the door and gets her book. 

 

“I think I’m busy.”

 

“Doing what?” Carol laughs. “Hanging out with  _ Barb _ ? Like, jesus. That’s gotta be so boring. You don’t need to do that. I’ve calmed everyone down about the whole lesbo thing. Like, they know it’s just a joke.”

 

“Actually, it’s not.” Steph closes her locker. Stands up straighter. She always slouches around Carol out of habit. But she’s almost a full head taller. She might be a twig, but she can loom over most of the girls in a way that could be almost threatening if she wants to. 

 

“What are you talking about?” Carol wrinkles her nose. 

 

“I am a lesbian, Carol.”

 

“Yeah, OK.” She rolls her eyes. “Pretty sure you’re just a virgin.”

 

“I’m not. I fucked Tommy before you did.” Steph shrugs one shoulder. “It wasn’t very good.”

 

Carol doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. She blinks a few times. Huffs a little. “Why are you acting like such a bitch all of the sudden? I fixed things for you. Like, you can stop having your little pity party. I’m even gonna forgive you for letting that psycho try to choke me to death. The least you can do is appreciate it.”

 

“I don’t care about whatever it is you think you’re doing for me. I also don’t really want to hang out with you. Sorry.”

 

And Steph walks away. Billie’s coming down the hall from the other direction. She grins and starts sauntering backwards when she and Steph intersect. 

 

“Hey, hot stuff.”

 

Steph pauses. Wraps Billie in a quick hug. Billie seems surprised but hugs her back. Squeezing tight. Maybe people are looking at them. Steph doesn’t care. 

 

They link arms as Billie walks her to class. It feels right. Bubbly and comforting all at once. It’s exactly how things are supposed to be. And Steph’s so glad she’s finally found it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rise from the ashes. My excuse for taking so long is that I had top surgery lmao.


End file.
